


The Lemony Scent

by whenmysoulsings



Series: Cullen and Ihrá [5]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 20:20:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15692673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenmysoulsings/pseuds/whenmysoulsings





	The Lemony Scent

Solas was annoyed. Commander Cullen carried the Herald to the chantry while his eyes followed  them s verly . Slightly he could see how  Ihrá gave him an apologetic look over Commander Cullen's shoulder, as if his protective instinct was her fault.   
He shook his head, turned and followed the path to his cabin. Rutherford, with his huge Templar ego, frustrated him. Hard to imagine that only he‘d noticed how the Commander stares at the Herald when he was sure nobody was watching him. If Cullen was a dog, everyone would see him drooling and wagging his tail as soon as she was  around him .

Ihrá was good-looking, Solas couldn’t deny that,  h er skin was light and you could see the lines of her Vallaslin of Ghilan’nain on her forehead and chin very clearly. Despite his aversion to Dalish tradition, he had to admit, that it suited her face, like the color of her eyes – dark gray – and her brown hair. He was wondering if she knew that her name was an old and forgotten Dalish word for _‘storm’_. Perhaps her parents had known that and named her like this, perfectly describing the color of her eyes and her temper. Maybe  I should ask her one day, he said to himself.  
  
Only the lemony scent didn‘t quite fit to her, Solas thought. When he held her and the smell had gone up in his nose, he involuntarily had to curl his nose. He‘d expected an earthy, discreet smell, good for hunting. This was the handwriting of Josephine or Leliana, who tried to match her to  the expectations that people have with their Herald. The Dalish were n’t popular, so she should n’t  look Dalish, not behave like that, do not smell like that. They were looking for a  general way to convince as many  people  as possible and bring them to their side.

Solas knocked the snow off his feet as he stood in front of his cabin. A cold wind made him shudder and in a hurry he opened the door and searched some logs of wood to heat the stove. The embers still gleamed lightly and he hadn‘t have to use  a spell to kindle a cozy fire quickly. Although Solas abilities allowed him to easily adjust to all adverse temperatures, he enjoyed the comforting warmth of the fire and the soothing crackling and clicking of the burning wood.  
  
Sighing, he dropped into his chair by the stove, picked out the book he‘d last read and carefully opened the page with the  bookmark in it. The anger over Commander Cullen had long passed, but the thoughts of Ihrá remained.

As much as he tried to focus on  the  paragraph he simply could not. His mind wandered and he remembered how scared he'd been when he woke up and saw her between the branches of the tree.  His heartbead stopped when he’d realised that he’d been caught off-guard. But her explanation had sounded conclusive and Solas believed  her, nevertheless he learned his lesson.  
  
Another thought came to mind: even though he was unwilling to admit it, he had been actually pleased to meet her, in peace, without anyone disturbing them. So far, he’d little opportunity to deal with Ihrá as a person. The anchor, the rifts,  the breach and the veil that needed to be kept in mind, especially the anchor she was wearing ... an accidant, a nuisance, but now beyond repair.  
  
The few conversations they‘d had were factual. He wasn‘t avoiding her on purpose and worried that the anchor and his magic could affect her, so he keep  watch ing her from afar, listening to what the others said about their Herald and how they  think of her .  Moreover , Solas had accompanied her in all her duties outside Havens. Ihrá was brave but not headless, playful but not childish, eager but not nosy and she carried the burden of the world on her shoulders without breaking down ... if she wasn‘t jumping straight from a branch and spraining her foot.

Solas frowned as he remembered her pained expression.  
Maybe I should have just healed her, he thought, glancing out the window. Not the first time he‘d seen her injured. On their travels, in the battles they fought, they rarely got away without injuries. Although Ihrá took a bow with her, she preferred to fight with her short swords, so that she was always in the middle of the fight and thus always got small blemishes, scratches or sometimes worse.  
He was used to it, they were all used to it...

Why did it feel so different this time? Why did he felt so touched and involved?  
  
While Solas was contemplating all this questions in his mind, he saw through his window, as Ihrá, supported by a soldier, was brought into her cabin, just opposite to his. Leliana followed, and soon afterwards he heard the door of Ihra's cabin slam shut.

With the bang of the door Solas closed his book, stood up to his feet but when he touched the knob on his door he froze, stunned by his impulse. A brief hesitation, but then his hand firmly hold the knob. He opened the door and the soldier, he‘d seen before, crossed his path and gave him a short nod. He took the few steps to the front of the door until he heard voices inside. Of course, Leliana was still there. His hand lifted to knock when he suddenly heard his name from inside. The rest was incomprehensible and too muffled to hear it clearly. Hidden from the eyes of the others was a window. Quickly he convinced himself that no one was watching him and sneaked on the side the cabin to the window, behind a shrub and pressed against the wall, breathing softly.

"That's all you can tell me about it, right!", he heard Leliana ask sternly.  
  
Ihrá sighed and Solas smiled as he imagined her expression, which he‘d seen often when she was annoyed by the many questions. Patience was not her strength.  
  
"I sprained my foot, Leliana, and did not lost my arm. The wounds during the fights were far worse than that."  
  
"You slipped, in the snow? You, who is whirling around her enemies in battles with two swords in her hands ... you must understand that I can not imagine that. And then Solas finds you somewhere outside of Haven... "  
  
"Why not?! I already said that we met by chance and... "  
  
"By chance, ..."

"Of course by chance, Leliana. But please tell me what you think has happened."  
  
Ihrá's voice cut off Leliana's sentence like a knife. The snow under Solas feet crunched softly as he shifted his weight and listened intently.  
  
"Herald, Solas is very seclusive. As much as he shares his knowledge with us, so little does he say about himself. "  
  
"You don’t trust him?"  
  
"How could I?! Solas hides something from us and ... - "  
  
Solas gasped. Leliana and her agents worked perfectly and when he came to Haven he knew of the risk, was always trying to be careful. Did she hear anything? Should a sprained foot pay too much attention to him.

"... Herald, I have no evidence, no clues, it's just a feeling. Just be careful. I know Solas accompanies you faithfully in your missions and his knowledge has an immeasurable value for us. But often there is a price for such a value. "  
  
Ihrá did‘t answer and Solas was burning to see her expression. On the other hand, his worries fell off. Leliana didn‘t know anything. Just a feeling, but that was quite normal. Everyone was extra carefull and extra wary when dealing with mages.   
Still, it was a warning to him. Furthermore, caution was advised.  
  
"Someone will look after you every hour because you refuse to stay in the chantry. If I don‘t see you jumping through the snow like a young Halla the next morning, I will prescribe a healing potion for you, against any protest. And you will drink it. "

A door opened and closed, as crackling footsteps in the snow told him that Leliana must have left the cabin, and he waited two more breaths to relax in his uncomfortable posture.

"Solas?"  
He stiffened.  
  
"Solas …", he heard her say , "I know that you are standing by my window. Come in, so I don‘t have to raise my voice like that. "  
  
For a moment he thought of just stay hidden in the hope she would think she was wrong. He shook his head over that childish thought, straightened his cloak, walked to the door and opened it without knocking.

"Lavellan, knocking is no longer necessary, I ... Ir abelas, Lavellan."

Solas felt his ears warm and blushing with certainty. He hated the fact that he  ha d no control over the reddening of certain body parts, especially infront of Ihrá.

Ihrá sat on her bed, leaned against a pillow behind her back. A bandage around her foot and the scent of the well-known healing salve rose to his nose, mixed with the already familiar lemony odor. Hesitantly, he stood in the doorway. So far he‘d only seen her in her armor, either armed in leather or in a lighter outfit when they were resting, consisting of a laced leather waistcoat and trousers of soft, fine fabric. Now she sat there in a thin linen blouse, way too big, so it bared her right shoulder, and her knee-length leather pants.

After seeing her for the first time, he knew she could be considered attractive, despite her Vallaslin. Now he realized, her beauty had captured even his interest.

Her formal attire and appearance usually made her more reserved and tense. Now with her open and slightly tousled hair, he saw her for the first time for who she could be.  
Solas heart was beating, almost overturned,  but  he tried to breathe slowly and to compose himself.

„Garas in, Solas.“ she said smiling as he‘d expected she would be angry because him overhearing her.

Solas closed the door and Ihrá pointed invitingly with her hand at a chair near her. When he still hesitated she just shrugged.

"It's just the foot, I'm not contagious."  
  
She teased him. 

Solas was astonished. Ihrá was friendly, almost cheerful.

"How did you know?"  
  
"Ah," 

she tilted her head and her smile was mischievous, 

"you want to get a glimpse in my cards, I keep close to my chest?“

She paused.

„I just heard you and recognized your gait. "

"Really?"

Solas was impressed. A good sense of hearing was nothing out of the ordinary for a huntress, but listening to a gait in the snow and assigning it to a special person was interesting.   
As she began to answer, Solas could see the change in her posture, proudly raising her head and her eyes sparkling as if she was about to tell him a secret.

"I can recognize each one of you by the sound of your footsteps. If there aren‘t too many noises involved or too many people  walking together. Then it is harder to distinguish.   
I heard your door open, it creaks a bit. You came to my cabin and when I thought you were coming in, I wondered when the steps led to the window side. In addition, I could see how the bush moved. Only briefly, but it was enough to conclude."  
  
Remarkable, thought Solas. Still he didn‘t know how to think about Ihrá. Too many unknown traits had to be considered, what effect could the anchor have on her, how would she master all the attention around her person and the situation. Would she grow and, if so, what size and power? Good-natured or cruel? He knew best what could come of great power.

"And you welcome every spy so friendly?" 

"That's why you keep the distance? Are you worried I'll slit your throat as soon as I approach you?“  
  
again she pointed to the chair.  
  
"I could have done that by throwing a dagger long ago. Sit down please."

Solas wasn‘t convinced yet but didn‘t want to be rude and finally nodded. He adjusted the chair a little and sat down.   
Before he was able to react, caught in suprise and amazed at her speed though she was injured, she‘d straightened up and  in  the next second sat on her knees before him, holding him tightly by his shoulders, her nails pressed deep in his tunic.

He wanted to sqirm free but he was paralysed as if hit by a flash of lightning. One breath later, when he looked into her eyes, he saw something familiar...like looking into a past self...something that calmed him down. Ihrá would not hurt him ... she wasn‘t cruel or headless. She wanted to unsettle him,  make him  feel uncomfortable. Once he realized that, it was easier to calm down and breathe easy.  
Solas resisted her haunting gaze  and endured the closeness, she hoped it would make him unsure. She was wrong thinking he could loosen up.

"Why Solas? What did you hope to hear, which I wouldn‘t have told you if you‘d just asked me?“

Her face was so close to his, he could feel her breath on his skin, her eyebrows strict and her eyes watching him and his moves accurately. Solas had already wondered how calm she had been. This was more a reflection of her temperament. She had tricked him, set a trap and he‘d finally fell into it. At least she didn‘t hold a knife to his throat.

He faltered not knowing what to tell her.  
It's not just that, a voice in his mind whispered. Admit it, you enjoy the sight, her closeness …

Her eyes remained focussed on him, as if she could find the answer somewhere in his eyes. Out of the corner of his eye he could see how calm she was breathing, how steady her chest rose and fell. The intensive glance of a huntress on her prey.

Oh, if only she knew, Solas thought, and to the chagrin of Ihrá he couldn‘t suppress a slight smirk. A flash in her eyes and the grip on his shoulders tightened. Solas realized that the situation could tip if he overstrain her patience and stirred her suspicions.

„The truth is, I didn‘t want to eavesdrop on you. It just happened.“

It sounded like a lame excuse, he knew that himself, so it didn’t surprise him when she looked at him in disbelief.

"Oh, you came out of your cabin, strayed to my door and accidentally fell down, found yourself under my window and couldn’t stop listening, did I understand you correctly or am I missing something?

Solas sighed and his linaments softened.  
  
"I'm telling the truth. I saw you as you were brought to your cabin and wanted to see how you are. Even before I could knock on the door I heard my name and my curiosity overcame me. Forgive me."

Examining, she looked in his eyes and Solas hoped she would believe him and he’d not already lost her trust.  
  
"I believe you, Solas. As you have certainly heard in conversation with Leliana, I trust you. Don’t give me any reasons to doubt it."

Slowly, her grip loosened and Ihrá sat back down on the bed.  Solas should have been far more worried about her attack, but all he could wonder was that he had enjoyed her  closeness . Solas had no time to linger on this thought, when Ihrá frowned in pain, bitting her lower lip while she tried to stretch out her legs.

"Certainly one of my less good ideas."  
she replied as she noticed his expression. She carefully tried to move her ankle.

"If I don’t want to be fed with a potion, I should stop those ..." she hesitated and Solas added  
  
"Surprise Attacks?"  
  
and conjured a smile on both of their lips and she nodded

"... those surprise attacks...ouch"

Ihrá shifted and tried to comfort herself.  
  
Solas didn’t think twice and sat at the end of her bed, his right leg bent, slowly and carefully raising her foot on his thigh, holding her ankle in his hands. A blue glow surrounded his hands while he focused and channeled his magic. Ihrá wanted to protest, but before a word could leave her lips, Solas commented:

"It’s not a healing spell, so there's no reason to protest, Da'len."  
  
"Da'len?", she asked with a amused sound in her voice, "This Da'len could have bitten into your ear even before you could react, Hahren."  
  
He grinned at the thought of how right she was without knowing it. He was an old man, he should be wiser to keep down the warm feelings he had when touching her, being so close to her. Stay focused, he commanded himself.  
  
The spell cooled her ankle and she started to relax. Solas realised how seldom he saw her this way, calm, relaxed, in peace...Normally she was always on the run, talking to people, thinking about strategies at the War Table, on the roads, fighting...

For a while they sat there in silence, Ihrá studied every move he made and didn’t take her eyes off him.  
  
"I understand that because of the scarcity of resources, you are denying treatment with a healing potion. But why don’t you just ask for healing it magically? I'm certainly not the most talented but I could ... "  
  
"Not necessary.", she threw in, a bit too hastily and when she saw Solas raising his eyebrows, she said in a calmer tone.  
  
"The healers are needed more urgently elsewhere. If they are here, they should treat the emergencies and rest in the times between. "  
  
"Indeed...that’s an excellent excuse, Da'len. While we were talking about trust, are you telling me the real reason?"

Solas wasn’t sure if he  was crossing a border  by calling her Da'len, or was even wrong in his assessment, and she was really so worried about resources and the mages, though it was one simple healing spell that could alleviate the pain a little.

Meanwhile, she was running her fingers nervously through her hair, fixing some strains behind her ears and it was as if she was  turning aroung a thought in her  mind, rating it from all sides and weighing her answer, no, weighing if she trusted him enough.  
She sighed and made a decision.  
  
"It's the magic ...", she started, holding the palm with the anchor in her hand, looking at it absently.  
"I know, it must sound weird to you. Magic s urrounds you at every step you make, it is a part of you and for you as familiar as air to breathe. But this...for me...this is new and strange…“

Solas said nothing, just listened and waited while she searched for words to explain herself. The anchor in her hand glistened slightly, illuminating her in a greenish light, reflecting in her eyes.  
  
"Sometimes I can control it, it reacts to the rifts but sometimes ... right now ... it glows ... I can feel the magic in my veins ... unpleasant pins and needles under my skin, hurting, I feel drained ... I don’t understand how and why. What if the magic, the spells, barriers, healing spells have an affect on me?”

Fine green strands shone under the skin of her forearm and small sparks flew from her fingers up in the air. Her eyebrows contracted in horror, she was terrified, held her own hand away, like a foreign body, but that only made it worse. The sparks produced a small flame that grew out of her palm and her whole hand started glowing like a torch.

Within a second he was at her side, taking her hand and holding it in his, as if trying to smother the flame.

"Look at me Da'len!" he said quietly.  
  
She had to calm down. The magic spread wildly in her and responded to her emotions.  
  
"Look at me!" and finally she dropped her eyes from her arm, which was almost glowing as much as her whole hand.

"Calm down!  B reathe."  
  
The green glint was reflect ing in her eyes, which  were staring at him and he tried to fathom.  
There was concern and ... anger ... which initially  appeared strange to Solas, but then fit the image he had of her.

Ihrá wasn’t afraid of the magic. She was angry because she couldn‘t control it, she was controlled, dominated. Was he right? He wanted to ask her, say something, but he couldn’t. Suddenly he was caught in her gaze, the closeness and the silence around  them . He heard her breathing more calmly, her pressure relievied. Solas resisted the impulse to touch her face, to trace the fine lines with his fingers and stroke her slightly opened lips. He wanted to deny the thought, strip it off, but his fast-pounding heart was screaming against his silent protest.

"Sol ...", Ihrá whispered...  
  
There was a knock on the door.  
They startled, Solas let go of her hand and barely managed to get to the other side of the bed when the door opened and two heavy boots entered.

"Herald, I don’t want to disturb you but …"  
  
Cullen's sentence stuck in his throat and his eyes spoke volumes. At first he saw  Ihrá, sitting in there confused and blushed, then focused at Solas and he seemed visibly surprised.   
Solas quickly regained his senses, stood up  and  clear ed his throat, before the embarrassing silence could expand any further and could have made too much room for rumors.

"That's all I can do for you, Herald. I hope the pain eases. ", 

then he turned around  
"Commander."  
nodded and went out the door.

The cold air burned instantly on his hot cheeks, he hoped Commander Cullen hadn’t noticed. He heard her voice briefly, until the door fell shut. The air tasted of snow when he inhaled deeply and tried to sort his thoughts and feelings.  
What had happened, he wondered. But even more the question burned in him, what would have happened if they hadn’t been disturbed?

 

 

 


End file.
